Dumping the Flame Alchemist
by Kavery12
Summary: What would it take for a girl to dump the famous lady-killer Roy Mustang?


Roy Mustang whistled cheerily to himself in front of the mirror. He looked good and he knew it – smug smirk, black eyes, neat suit, blue cashmere scarf, everything but the bouquet and the girl. He'd even managed to escape Hawkeye a whole five minutes early so he could spend more time in the shower. Marie wouldn't stand a chance.

The doorbell rang and he pattered down the stairs, throwing open the door and whisking the bouquet out of the strangely dressed flower delivery boy's hand. As he handed the boy money, he mused to himself that the huge, muffling scarf wasn't really attractive at all. The delivery boy would have trouble getting girls like that, unless the poor lad was ugly or deformed. Or if he looked like Havoc.

Still, Mustang mused, not everyone could be as good looking as Roy Mustang. He tucked the bouquet under his arm and trotted merrily out to the car, arriving precisely on time. Marie had been waiting at the window, obviously, and threw the door open as he strutted (just a bit, no good looking like a rooster) up the walkway. She cooed ecstatically and Mustang eyed her critically. Gorgeous, even if there wasn't a whole lot going on in Marie's head, and she wasn't quite as attractive as Hawkeye-

*choke*

Roy Mustang did _not_ go down that road on a date. Actually, he tried (unsuccessfully, most of the time) to avoid that particular train of thought at all costs.

Ahem. He whisked the beautiful roses out under the delighted girl's nose. Marie gleefully tore the paper off and stuffed her nose into the flowers.

She promptly sneezed. Her nose swelled. Her eyes watered. She sneezed again. And again. She couldn't stop sneezing, continuously spraying a flabbergasted colonel. Snot dribbled all over her siren-red dress and stuck to the delicate lace shawl. Mustang stared in alarm as accusing, wet, bloodshot blue eyes glared at him.

Then, without a word from the damsel in distress, the door slammed shut. Stilettos ticked away, then returned, different footsteps, strangely heavier. Mustang's heart sank. The door flew open ominously and Marie's rather large father chased the famous Flame Alchemist out to his car like a scalded cat.

Mustang sulked all night, smarting under the events that had transpired. When he called the flower shop, they denied ever having taken the order and he resolved never to use them again, but it still didn't explain the flowers.

His one consolation was that none of his subordinates had been present.

It was a false comfort. Beautiful pictures of Mustang bolting down the path, chased by an irate father as an angry daughter shook her fist at her hapless date circulated all through Central Headquarters by 9:13 am the next morning. Even Fuery and Falman were sniggering and Havoc's syrupy sympathetic look was impossible to bear.

The worst was Hawkeye's slight smile of pity.

He would have blamed Fullmetal, but he knew the bean sprout alchemist had been out with Fuery that night, working overtime to fix a communication line that normal-sized people couldn't reach.

That left Havoc as the only person with an axe to grind, but Havoc wasn't an alchemist – that had been freshly transmuted cayenne pepper in the bouquet. He was pretty sure that Havoc had been involved, but he wasn't the mastermind, so torching his subordinate would just result in more work for Mustang. The satisfaction payoff just wasn't worth it. He ran through the list of office personnel who had known he had a date. The only alchemist was the younger Elric brother, but shrugged off the thought. Al wasn't the devious type, not at all. It must have been someone Havoc bribed.

_Al held the sheaf of pictures, tissue-paper frail in his big gauntlet fingers. "Cash first, pictures after that." The eager lieutenant forked over the money. "Thank you. I should warn you that I do not take responsibility for any damages incurred while baiting the Flame Alchemist." Al watched the lieutenant take off and shook his head. That one would end up toasted, just like the last one. Oh well. Explosions were always fun to watch. _

_It took an innocent to thoroughly prank a man of the Flame Alchemist's caliber and Al took pride in his work._


End file.
